


The Gospel of Donald

by Lunamaria (Kapori)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Because when I think Donald and Kingdom Hearts, Donald character piece, Gen, I think angst, In which Donald faces the reality of darkness, Thematic canon divergence, but also hope so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapori/pseuds/Lunamaria
Summary: It was a war, not a fairytale. Donald-centric character piece.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The Gospel of Donald

**Author's Note:**

> For context, I wrote this ten years ago. It's posted to my FF.Net account, but every few years, I tend to update the pieces I'm partial to. I decided to make some re-writes to this one and post here. There is a companion piece for Goofy called Old Faithful, which I hope to update and post here within in the next couple weeks.
> 
> I've always enjoyed deconstructing the KH universe into a more grim perspective. Treating certain events more like a war, and writing characters within that scope. In this case, Donald. 
> 
> I'm jump roping with canon, but having a good time while doing it!

_"War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."_

_\- J.R.R. Tolkien_

_._

_._

.

Donald, court wizard and defender of Disney Castle, loyal to his friend and ruler, King Mickey, had never once been afraid of the dark. Until the day came that Donald Duck, magician extraordinaire, discovered such a thing as darkness existed.

Rumors of war, for the first time Donald could ever remember, whispered through the gates of the castle. They spoke of evil, of beings without hearts, of danger, of darkness. The tales came from seemingly nowhere, like a strange, foreboding magic. The troubling news spread to every corner of their kingdom, and even to other worlds, to the stars twinkling throughout Donald's sky.

At first, he worried little. Darkness had no place within their king's domain. It could not pierce the light of their world. The king was good and so were his people. If such evil came their way, his king, his most trusted ally and friend, would stand against it. Donald felt secure in that, like a puzzle with all of its piece neatly placed together, certain and whole.

Donald never feared, until the day the king vanished into thin air. Sooner than he knew he was vanishing too, off in search of a key and, unknowingly, a full-scale war.

Finding the war turned out to be easier than finding the key. What's more, finding out what to do with that key once they had it was the trickiest thing of all. Puzzles and muddles, every bit of it. How could some magical hunk of metal be the answer to the troubles of the universe, he wondered. How could it save anyone's heart? How could it save Goofy's, or Mickey's or Daisy's? How could it save his?

How had this been allowed to happen?

What Donald learned early on was that war could change even the best of ducks. It could take everything around you and turn it into something terrifyingly simple. White or black, this or that, all or nothing. Somebody or Nobody. There was so little room for mercy, for understanding, for the tragedy of creatures born without hearts of their own.

How had that been allowed to happen?

Donald tried his best not to see the details too closely, for what he found might swallow him whole. He knew those beings he fought against weren't really people (or were they?), that they only appeared to be, and had no hearts...but sometimes he just didn't know. He did his best to think only of the danger. All other thoughts he pushed away like rushing water from a dam. If not, he went on wondering.

How could things that could hate and loathe not love and cry and laugh as well? Could you be real without a heart? He was born with a heart...did that mean he got to decide what was real and what wasn't? Was it truly all an accident of fate?

Donald ignored the answers as they came, for he might not be able to come to terms with what he found.

Goofy was a more faithful fighter, all told. His shield never hesitated, his mind never thought that maybe, just maybe, they couldn't… shouldn't win. Not like this. He was of such a simple mindset that it left Donald dumbfounded. How could he have such confidence in his path? Goofy was kind to a fault, and so unswervingly loyal to his king in this war.

Why couldn't Donald see the edges of right and wrong that Goofy, Sora, and the king, all saw? What was wrong with him? Why was everything so complicated?

Perhaps, Donald considered, the darkness was working slowly into his heart. Like a slow-moving poison, it was sapping his body and mind of their conviction and strength. Destroying his magic. Sometimes Donald was truly convinced that he might wake up one morning and find himself fighting on the wrong side.

Those thoughts frightened him most.

But even in the midst of the uncertainty and peril, they were granted unexpected miracles. Like being sucked into a black hole and landing, in the random chaos of the universe, on a small island that Sora called home.

The trio blinked at first, confused, but the moment Sora locked eyes on the shore and saw the sky, he knew where they were. He cried, right there on the ship, for he had not seen home in a long, long time and was so happy to be there again. Donald and Goofy cried as well, cried in happiness and in sadness. Would they ever make it home again? In secret, they worried. After, they collected themselves, laughed, and swam to shore.

It maybe wasn't their home, but it was Sora's. That was enough.

It was strange to feel happy. For Donald, seeing Sora reunited with his loved ones was a gift beyond speech. When there was so much falling to ruin around them, it was a beautiful thing to see that love still existed somewhere. Their reunion was short, but Sora grinned like a fool for so many days following.

That was the way of things for them, though. Always departing, always destined for new worlds and new battles and new nightmares. It became routine, leaving and leaving again. Fighting. Running from the haunting, incongruous truths.

During the next battle, all Donald could see was Sora and the faces of his family and friends, of Kairi. He saw their smiles and joy and love, then the empty husks of their hearts. It was all he could hold onto as each incantation _zapped_ and _zipped_ from his wand. They'd seen it before, after all. Empty, lifeless people, drained of hearts and of every good thing.

Well. It was a war, not a fairytale. As he saw and understood this, those edges that Mickey and Goofy and Sora all seemed to so clearly see, sharpened a little.

In the end, Donald knew at least one thing through and through. There was nothing truly won in war, not in the history of every star in his sky. Nothing whole, nothing right, nothing to ever justify what it cost. There was only the beginning and end, and what was lost and gained between. But no, there was nothing good. Donald even wondered if what they gained in return was worth anything at all.

But it was tiring work, assigning blame and playing mind games about ifs and whats and the what-could-have-beens. No matter what he thought now, Donald had been a part of what happened and had come to understand the darkness within himself and others. He was changed and tired, but he would not change his place in the story. No matter what anyone said about him, he would just as soon serve his kingdom again.

Not because he was a hero or victorious or good, but because he had everyday happiness. He had Daisy and his magic, his nephews and uncles, Sora and Kairi, Goofy, his king. Those who were worth his life and more. They had been threatened and someone had to protect them, no matter the cost.

And that was why Donald fought that impractical war, because he could not be silent. Sometimes things happened, sometimes darkness came for the light and creatures came to steal the hearts of others. He could do nothing to avert it, for the darkness was desperate and unwilling to yield. He did not want to fight it, but he had used his power with the best of his goodness.

He had to believe he was right. How could something that wanted to harm his Daisy be allowed? How could he justify letting such an evil, dark thing exist?

It all came back to that illusive concept, of light and of darkness.

What it meant to him, to the heartless, to everyone and everything. Donald still could not define them, not really. He could read off meanings in one of the king's old chronicles, but he could not place such faith in mere words. As if a mere string of words could express all the tears he had cried over the past years, all the fears, all the battles, all the hurt.

As if that definition could help anyone understand. It could never convey what both sides lost, that what he thought was right and worth living for was wrong and worth killing for to someone else. As if anyone knew the real answers.

Well, at least he knew one thing: Daisy was alive, and she was safe.

Maybe he would never know if he was truly good or if Nobodies weren't completely evil. There were a lot of things he would never find the answers to – how to stop the nightmares, the guilt, how to face his fear of the dark.

Perhaps, though, those weren't his answers to unearth alone. Perhaps he was meant to be there for those he loved and manage each day as it came, nothing more. Some days it seemed like it took everything within him just to face himself. But other days he knew he had done everything in his power to save the cosmos and, heavens, he wasn't just going to let them go without a fight.

Those were some of his best, happiest days.

.

.

.

Donald fell back into the grass, listening to each each sweet, cherished breath of Daisy beside him.

Today was better than yesterday and that seemed to be the way of things. Each day was easier than the last, each night filled with just a little more sleep and a few less nightmares. It was complicated, but there was hope that someday things would be better. That spring would eventually return again to his heart and, with it, healing.

Donald held onto that hope and saw it everywhere, saw it when he looked in the mirror, and saw it in the love of his friends. He saw it next to him as he reached out to take Daisy's hand.

He didn't want to fight, didn't want to hurt anyone… but sometimes darkness breached a castle's walls. A choice was made, a sorcerer's wand drawn up in defense. Not for glory, but because there was no other way. The darkness came and the light shivered. By and by, someone had protect it. So he, a king, a dog, and a boy, played their parts in a war that was not as glorious as it might have seemed...not as heroic as it sounded to the ears of children who heard the story as sleep came.

Together they returned, a little more afraid of the dark and a little more knowing. But the important thing was this: they returned home. To open arms and love well-defended, lightness and hearts untouched, they returned home. It was not perfect in the end, but the day, the long and dark and arduous day, had been saved.

And there they were, twinkling above him, all the stars in Donald's sky.

Strange though it might seem, that was enough for him.

"Daisy," Donald said, breathing in. "It's good to be home."


End file.
